


Paradise Lost

by orphan_account



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Broken Bones, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Kidnapping, Lost Love, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-03-05 07:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Following a series of texts from an ex-lover, J-Dog spirals back into the depression he had once suffered from. He hated to admit that he missed what he had lost - but he was happier now.The other didn't like that, though, and he knew that Jay's comfort was going to be very short lived.





	1. Chapter 1: Messages From a Ghost

"I don't believe that." Johnny said, watching Danny as he made coffee. "Why would Deuce text Jay? How does he even have his number?" 

Danny sighed, turning to face Johnny. "I don't know, okay? It wasn't like I was meant to see it." 

"Still. Do you think he knows?" 

"That Deuce texted? How could he? He's been asleep all fucking day." Danny replied, a snarky tone to his usually calm voice. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this shit today. 

As if he had been called, a groggy voice came from behind the two, startling them both.

"Mornin'" J-Dog mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen like a zombie. "What'd I miss?" 

"Oh, I don't know, just-" 

Johnny clamped a hand over Danny's mouth.  
"He's in a bad mood." 

Jay slowly nodded, a suspicious look on his face as he picked up his phone - and almost immediately dropped it again. 

"What the fuck?" He mumbled to himself, staring at the slightly cracked phone screen until it flickered back off. Carefully holding the phone, he unlocks it, handling it as if it could explode at any moment.

10:47 - Deuce: Hey, pup - how you doin'?  
11:00 - Deuce: Giving me the silent treatment?  
11:04 - Deuce: I see. Fuck you then.   
11:27 - Deuce: I'll fuckin' kick your ass one day, fag.

While Jay was expecting more than one message, he didn't expect it to have gotten to this point - the amount it escalated within minutes scared him. He quietly put his phone down. Danny frowned.

He hadn't seen Jay so shaken up since the accident with stage stunts they'd had a few months ago, when Danny had woken up in hospital to see him shaking and crying beside him. He was worried for him. 

[Flashback]

Running with the flag was a lot of fun, and was an end of show tradition for the guys, and this time, it was Danny's turn to wave it. He hadn't had the chance before, as they tended to end on songs that involved his input on the guitar.

Picking up the flag, Danny runs back out on stage, an uproar of cheering coming from the large crowd that had gathered. These were the good days - they really were. Unfortunately for the band, the happiness was soon to come to an end. Due to some poorly placed pyrotechnics, and Danny's overexcitement, an accident was bound to happen.

Especially with a heavy, highly flammable flag.

The singer had begun to grow tired - he was a little sick as is, so it was natural for his normal strength to be lessened. As he gave the flag a final wave, deciding he should put it down before his arms gave up, a stray spark flew off from the display, catching on the edge of the material.

No one expected it to go up quite that fast.

Of course, they had precautions set in place. They'd thought about this. But they hadn't thought about just how aggressive fire truly was. 

Within moments, it had engulfed the Dove and Grenade, leaving nothing but a ball of fire. Asides from the crowd, Danny had been the only one to notice.

This would have been fine. He would have walked away unharmed, if it hadn't been for the fact a camera-man had just stepped backward a little too suddenly, resulting in Danny tripping. 

The burning flag went down with him.

It wasn't fun, hitting that stage floor. With the force he had fallen at, he took a nasty blow, his head hitting the floor with a loud thud, knocking him out. What followed would be the worst accident the venue had ever seen. 

"Holy fuck!" J-Dog yelled. He had watched Danny go down with the flames. He had seen it all happen as the burning fabric fell down atop his unconscious body.

The crackling was sickening, and time seemed to slow. Jay ran over against his better judgement, grabbing the flag pole and pulling it away from the lead singer, shaking as he yelled into the dead mic for someone, anyone to help him.

He didn't care that his hands burned. He didn't care about the blinding light, and scalding heat. He only cared for Danny. His Danny. Oh, how could he let this happen?

[End of Flashback]

And to the present day, Danny still hadn't fully recovered. His arms were covered in burns, stitches and bandages where beautiful tattoos, works of art once were. Jay blamed himself. Of course he did. He shouldn't have trusted the shitty sparklers that the venue put in.

He was scared Danny would never recover, but luckily for him, the other had been able to leave hospital remarkably fast. And now, they were ready to tour ago - although Danny was terrified of fire now.

"Jay." A voice whispered. It slowly began to grow louder. "Jay!" 

J-Dog looked up, snapping out of his mind. He had zoned out, and become unresponsive. It didn't help that Deuce was on his mind. The horrible things their ex-singer had put him through. "Sorry.." He mumbled, locking his phone again so he didn't have to see the texts until he was ready.

 

Not much time passed by before he recieved another message, however.

11:58 - Deuce: I can see that you've read it, fuck. I'm not stupid.  
11:59 - Deuce: You're still mine.

That was it. The rapper snapped, sending back a rather sharp message to the ex-singer. The ex-member. His ex-lover. 

12:01 - J-Dog: Leave me the fuck alone, Deuce. I want nothing to do with you, and neither does the band. How did you get my number? 

It was hard to be harsh to someone you'd spent most of your life with. They had made Hollywood Undead together, and yet still Deuce had taken a path that led him to self destruction.

J-Dog knew too well what the other was able to do to others, let alone to himself. He didn't want to tell the rest of his band why it scared him so badly to have recieved texts from him. They didn't need to know, and yet, maybe it was for the best that they did.

It terrified him to know that Deuce was trying to force his way back into his life.


	2. Cigarettes and Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, and I'm already getting support from others on this website; I really appreciate you all, and hope you continue to enjoy my work. I've wanted to do this for quite a while now.
> 
> I am taking requests for both oneshots and full fics, so leave a comment or message if you'd like to request. (I'm not sure how this works yet tbh)  
> -BlueVinyl

Danny was worried, to say the least. He cared a lot about Jorel and seeing him in this distressed state was saddening. Since receiving multiple messages from Deuce, the rapper had disappeared off to his bunk, closing his curtain and shutting everyone out. Everyone had tried to talk to him, even Charlie, who usually just made light-hearted jokes about him. That had been three hours ago, and now, at eight in the evening, there was still no sign of a response. Jorel hadn't even come out to eat, only having emerged once to use the bathroom before quickly disappearing back into his bunk, avoiding all questions and concerns directed at him.

Despite knowing Jorel would likely ignore him, Danny approached his bunk, a worried frown etched across his face as he stopped outside.

"Jorel?" He gently called, resting his hand on the edge of the wooden frame. "Love?"

"What?" Jay mumbled, voice cracking as he spoke. It was obvious that he'd been crying. Danny knew what it was like when he cried.

"Can I come in, please?" Danny asks, slightly taken aback when he received a reply. He hadn't expected Jorel to sound quite so.. broken. It scared him, to think that the person who meant the most to him was torn to shreds emotionally due to a message from somebody he used to know. 

Jay, once facing the wall, had rolled over, gently tugging back the curtain to reveal the concerned face of his lover. He hadn't meant to worry the others quite so much, it was just a lot to process. They didn't know what he had been through when he had dated Deuce all those years ago. When he had been forced to smile, act happy and never reveal his true feelings. It was just how he had learnt to survive in those days. Old habits die hard.

He watched as the singer rolled into his bunk. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he already felt safer. Danny had a certain energy around him that could make anyone feel secure. Maybe that was one of the reasons Jay had fallen for him so fast.

"What's wrong, Jay?" Danny asked quietly, taking Jorel's hand in his own. 

"Nothing, I.."

"Don't lie to me."

"I.. Just,," Jay sighed, closing his eyes in a futile effort to prevent more tears from spilling down his face. "A lot happened with Deuce, back then. He's.. uh.. He's trying to talk to me again,"

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. With the way Jorel was struggling to contain his emotions, he figured it would probably be best not to ask what happened. Upsetting the rapper more was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him gently closer. It was hard to watch Jay be this upset - he couldn't imagine just what was going through the others mind. "Do you want me to stay for the night, love?"

Jay nodded, burying his face into Danny's shoulder. He relaxed in his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent another panic. The messages had really shaken him up. But who could blame him? While not knowing personally how Jay felt, Danny understood, holding him gently in fear of scaring him, or worse, hurting him. "I love you, Jay." He says gently, running his fingers through his hair.

A quiet whisper could be just about heard, the voice laced with sadness and worry. Yet, Danny smiled when he heard Jay say those four words. 

"I love you too.." 

Danny hoped he could keep Jay safe for as long as he could. He would do everything in his power to maintain that.


	3. The Streets of LA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter; it was a lot of fun to write, and probably my favourite that I've written in a long while.
> 
> -B.Vinyl

The dimly illuminated streets of LA are a dangerous, cruel thing. Shadows moved, humming with life - they contained the lowest of the low. Those rejected by society and banished to the darkness. It was their home. 

But sometimes, the roads crawled with a much darker kind of evil. A lost, abandoned, vengeful man. Awaiting a chance to seek his revenge. Years before, he had been a happy, successful person, living his dream with his best friend. With the one he loved the most.

Now, he was nothing more than a sewer rat to them. A scar in the past of his lover. An empty chair at a table. Well. He was, until they'd replaced him. 

That was what had angered him the most. His replacement had not only taken where he once was, but had also taken his lover. Oh, how he wanted them back. He craved the closeness, and the affection. But he knew he would never get that back easily. He knew how he had hurt his ex. He was ashamed of the abuse he had put him through.

But he deserved it, right? He was too weak until he fixed him. He would never let anyone near. Until his replacement.

"Danny fucking Murillo," He snarled to himself, clenching his fist. Oh, the anger he felt toward that man was irrational. 

Soon, he disappeared into the shadows, out of sight by the bright city lights. Those who dwelled there quickly cleared the way for the masked man.

No one knew his face.  
No one knew where he came from.  
No one knew why he was so violent.

But they did know his name.

And in the dark, dismal alleyways of Los Angeles, he was fear itself. He was hell and heaven, a god and the devil.

He was Deuce


	4. In Cold Blood

Jorel was never one to smoke cigarettes. He had picked up the habit of social smoking from Jordon a few months prior, but it hadn't gotten far. That was, until the few days ago where he had recieved the messages from a certain shadow of his past.

Picking up the pack from the counter, he opened the bus door, briefly calling to Dylan that he was heading out for a bit. The others had gone out for something to eat, but the rapper had fallen ill with a cold. Served him right for going out without a jacket. 

He gently closed the door behind him, pulling a cigarette out alongside his lighter. It was actually Jordon's, but he had borrowed it for a bit. Not like the other tended to notice these things anyway. If he had borrowed Johnny's lighter, he'd be a dead man.

Johnny noticed everything.

Smiling at the thought, he lit the cigarette while he walked, deciding not to go too far, as it was a cold and dark night. Eventually, he found a nice place to relax, leaning back against the wall as he took a drag. The dirty, suffocating taste hit the back of his throat almost immediately, and he had to stifle a cough.

But, it was worth it. It calmed his nerves a little, amd let him mindlessly watch as the smoke rose into the air, disappearing into an unforgiving, endless sky. There was something mesmerising about the way it twisted and curled into the night, forming shapes and patterns over the stars. He really did enjoy it. 

The spot he had picked was only a few minutes from where the bus had been parked. A little wall outside a closed bar. It overlooked a rundown park, moonlight reflecting in the mossy pond. Jay did wonder what sort of life was in there. He had a tendency to let his mind wander aimlessly when he was alone, letting his eyes scan the graffiti that littered the streets as his imagination made tale after tale about the origins of the artwork. 

Sometimes, he'd write lyrics, just letting his thoughts spiral as he wrote. It was something to do, after all, and one of his more productive hobbies. 

Jay took another breath, letting the smoke into his lungs. He had needed this for a while. The calm and quiet of L.A at night. It was like a second home. A place so elusive yet so accessible. He felt homesick when he was away from it sometimes. 

Moments passed, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. Deciding it would be a good idea to check - as he had been outside for quite a while - he pulled it out his pocket, tossing away the end of his cigarette. It was a message from Danny.

1:03am - Danny: Hey, you okay? x It's really late  
1:05am - Jay: yeah, i'm fine, just out  
1:07am - Danny: Hm, okay. Well, I love you x  
1:09am - Jay: i love you too  
1:11am - Danny: Come back soon? x  
1:11am - Danny: I'm worried about you x  
1:13am - Jay: i will, babe, dw

Jay tucked his phone back into his pocket. He was considering having another smoke, as he could already feel his stress levels rising again. In the end, he decided against it. Danny hated it when he smoked, and he respected that. The singer didn't tell him not to, but Jorel knew he didn't like it. 

He'd do anything to keep Danny happy. Anything.

It was sad that he missed Deuce. He knew he had been done wrong. He knew he had been so hurt. But, part of his heart still missed his ex-lover, and he felt so guilty for that. He would choose Danny any day - the singer was his soulmate, if he ever believed in one, and he had plans to spend the rest of his life with him - but the fucked up, drugged up side of him missed what he had. It was raw, unfiltered emotion. Blood, bruises and love. 

It was animalistic, and reckless.

To this day, every noise made him jump. Every whisper in the dark, footstep out of place or door that shut just a little bit too loudly made him flinch. He'd often curl up, his body automatically preparing to recieve pain every time someone so much as raised a hand around him. But that never happened. Not since they had removed Deuce from the band. 

Jay shut his eyes, sinking down against the dirty wall outside the bar. He felt the sting of tears and shook his head, as if trying to will them away. Who was he kidding? He didn't want anything to do with his ex-lover. A tear ran down his face, soon harshly brushed away on the back of his hand. But, once the tears had started running, sometimes there was no stopping them.

Never being one to cry in public, it was strange to him. He'd usually be able to bottle up his emotions until he was alone in his bunk. But now, sat on the ground with nothing but memories and a haunting sense of the past, they caught up to him. 

He hated crying, feeling how the emotion shook his body, stealing breath from his lungs. He felt so low, so torn. Like a broken record, held together by hope. What would happen when that hope disappeared? 

Fuck, sometimes he wished Deuce had killed him, instead of cursing him with this. The sharp, stabbing feeling of wanting to disappear. Of wishing he was dead, so he didn't have to drag his scarred body through the life he had been forced to live.

But maybe the hope was there. His sunlight was Danny. The light of his life. His love. His passion.

His.. hope.  
He loved him, a lot.

A voice from beside him snapped him out of his thoughts, however. Jay quickly looked beside him, jumping up to his feet. 

The fear that seeped into his heart was intense and overwhelming as he looked up, locking eyes with the man standing in front of him. The masked man he knew all too well.

"Deuce..?" He whispered, feeling himself begin to shake. He wished he wasn't this weak, but now wasn't the time to worry about what he lacked. 

Despite not being able to see the others face, it was as if Jay could feel the smirk on Deuce's face.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Decker." Deuce said, gun pointed directly at the others face. "I gave you time. Now I'm back for my property."

Jorel opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly met with a rag over his face. He struggled, kicking and lashing out at his attacker, fighting so hard to break free. To run away.

But, as the chemicals took over, his world began to fade. God, he was so tired, yet he knew fully well what was going on. As his mind became cloudy, and his body began to go limp, Jay whispered four small words. Words that he knew would never reach the singer, but that he wished he could have told him in person.

"I love you, Danny," 

Everything went black.


	5. 5:33am

4:27am - Danny: Jay, are you okay?  
4:27am - Danny: Love??  
4:29am - Danny: Please check your phone.  
4:50am - Danny: You said you'd be home two hours ago.  
4:55am - Danny: Jorel???

Danny was scared. He had stayed awake since Jorel said he'd be home, awaiting his return. He wanted to make sure Jay was okay when he came back, but now it was getting slightly more serious. Nervously tapping the table, he set his phone down, deciding to give him some extra time to pick up.

He wasn't panicking, as sometimes Jorel neglected to check his phone, or let it die, however, he was still on edge. 

"Danny?" 

Looking up quickly - and jumping at the sound of the voice - the singer made eye contact wirh Jordon. 

"Oh, hi," Danny mumbled, looking back at his phone and letting himself calm again. Jordon had a tendency to sneak up on him at the worst of times.

Most thought of Charlie as a harsh, yet hilarious, person - however, Danny and the rest of the band knew that he was soft and caring when he needed to be. 

"You're up late," The rapper commented, heading to their bus kitchen for a drink of water. He had woken up from a bad dream a few moments ago. 

"Could say the same for you," He grumbled, not looking up from his phone as he sent yet another message to Jay. It had been ten minutes since his last one. 

"Can't sleep?" 

"I guess,"

"Something's on your mind," Jordon sighed, walking over to sit next to Danny. He could tell by the way the other kept his head down, slouched over his phone. 

Sighing, the singer put down his phone. He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall behind the couch. Thoughts raced through his mind, filling the silence with static - it wasn't often that Danny was seen this worried. 

"Jay's not replying - he said he'd be home two hours ago, but he's still out," Danny admitted, avoiding eye contact. "I'm worried something's happened to him. I mean, I know he's capable of looking after himself but.." He shakes his head, as if trying to rid it of the bad thoughts. 

"Oh, man," Jordon frowned. That really was unlike Jorel. As much as he tended to ignore others when he was having a bad night, he would never ignore Danny. "Well, why don't you get some rest? Maybe he went to stay at a friends and his phone died," 

"I don't know if I can sleep," Danny shrugs. 

"But isn't it worth a shot?" 

"I guess.." 

The rapper nodded, placing a hand on Danny's shoulder. "Try not to worry too much, yeah? He'll come home," 

The singer nodded, pulling himself up from their old couch. He felt as if weights were attached to his body as he grabbed his phone, turning the notifications on and practically dragging himself back to his bunk. "Night, Jordon." 

"Goodnight," The other replied, but he knew he went unheard. It was hard to get through to Danny when he was in a bad mood. It always had been.

Jordon sat down with his water, picking up his phone to play some mindless game while he got ready to go back to bed. Unlocking it, he frowned. There was a message from Jorel (or as his phone read, J-Dawg). The time stamp placed it as only five minutes ago.

He clicked the message, typing in his password to be able to read it. Despite the situation, he let himself smile at his lockscreen.

It was a photo of him and George from last Halloween. George had dressed up as a skeleton, while Jordon, quite reluctantly, dressed as a hotdog to amuse the other. He loved that photo, as much as he was annoyed at the time. And, at that, he appreciated George too. 

However, he let his temporary happiness go whenhe read the contents of the message. It was simple, but strange. It was a simple 'Call me, or get Danny to.'

As far as Jordon knew, that looked nothing like Jay's typing. 

"Okay.." He spoke aloud to himself, clicking the call button and waiting in anticipation as the dial tone played. After a few seconds, Jorel picked up. 

"Hello?" Jordon spoke softly, holding the phone to his ear. 

"Hello, Jordon," 

The rapper felt his grip weaken, a strong wave of nausea washing over him.

"Deuce?" He whispered, shakily placing his water down in order to prevent spilling it. 

This was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far
> 
> \- B.Vinyl


	6. Property of the Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one isn't as good as the others - at least that's how I feel about it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, anyway.  
> -B.Vinyl

"Fuck, I didn't expect it to be that easy," Deuce laughed, watching Jorel collapse as the overpowering drug took over his system. He looked at his friend, a smirk plastered across his masked face. 

"Easy fuckin' target, Deu," The man laughed, letting the rappers body fall from his arms, where he had caught him. "He's yours now, don't overdo it. I'll see you next week?" 

"Yeah, thanks kid," Deuce chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the other turn to walk away. "But.."

He pulled his pistol out of his belt, flicking the safety off. "I'll be the last face you see," 

"What?" 

Mask in one hand, gun in the other, he fired, the silencer muffling what originally would have given his position away. "Sleep tight, motherfucker, hope you don't miss me," 

Tucking the weapon back under his shirt, he placed the mask back on his face. No one alive would know what he looked like now. 

Happy to be rid of the man, he smiled to himself, crouching beside Jay's unconscious body.

"I told you I'd get you, Pup," Deuce mumbled, shakily pulling the hood off the others face. "You didn't listen," 

He began to laugh, backing away from his victim. "Ah, what the fuck," 

Deuce, while able to survive by himself, was in no way mentally or emotionally stable. Since the split, he had been different. Shaky. Unpredictable. Uncontrollable. 

It explained why he was still living on the streets like this.

He became a very violent, vengeful person - only seeking to regain his lover and cause him suffering. Jay deserved to suffer for leaving him, right?

"Okay, gotta leave. Gotta go," Deuce whispered, heading over to the car he had parked in the alley and unlocking the boot. He came back, only to sling Jay over his shoulder, soon dumping the other in the back of his car. "Be a good pet, and be quiet" 

He slammed the door shut, humming to himself as he started the vehicle. Oh, the sweet taste of revenge. He had craved this for so long.

And now, as he pulled out of the alley, flicking the radio onto some mindless static as he drove away, he had what he wanted. The man who had tormented his thoughts since he had gone. Since he had been abandoned, kicked out on the streets by the one group of people he thought really cared about him.

"Fucking bullshit," Deuce growled to himself, slamming a hand into the steering wheel. He was angry, and he felt betrayed. What a dark place he was in. 

His bad mood left almost as fast as it had come on, however, as he pulled up outside the warehouse he planned to keep his fake love in. But, first.

Of course, this wasn't just about teaching Jay a lesson about leaving him. No, this was also a little gift for the rest of them. 

Deuce had made a special effort to pick up Jay's phone, planning to use it as blackmail toward the band that he once adored. The band he created. 

"No passcode? Dumbass," He chuckled to himself as he unlocked the phone with ease. Going into contacts, he clicked the first he saw.

Jordon.

5:33am - Jay: Call me, or get Danny to.

He waited.  
And waited.  
And waited.

Until finally, just finally, the phone began to ring, Jordon's icon popping up on the dimly lit, cracked screen.

"Hello, Jordon."

"Deuce?"

"What, shocked?" 

"I just.. yeah.."

"Shut up and listen, alright?" 

"Wha-"

"I have your little Jay. He's mine. You stole my property, and now I have it back."

"What the fuck do you mean?!" 

"Tell fuckboy Danny that I have his boy, and he ain't coming home, a'ight? This is for all the shit you've done to me. All the bullshit you've put me through."

"Deuce, wait," 

"No. I'm not fucking waiting, Jordon - you can steal my fame, my money and my fans, but you can't my Jay. Fuck off, and tell Danny to pray that I don't shoot him the next time I fucking see him," 

And, he hung up. 

He was satisfied with that. He felt he got the point across. Now, it was time to wait for Jay to wake up. 

He knew he was going to have a lot of fun with this.


	7. Wish You Were Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how short this one is; I've been trying to keep up with uploads.
> 
> I hope this is good - I don't have much faith in my own work.

A gentle knocking woke Danny up that morning. He groaned, pulling the blanket over his head, shutting out the light that streamed through the cracks of his bunk curtains. He really didn't want to wake up.

Last night's late worries had made him exhausted. The tiredness felt like weights attached to his body, pinning him down. Forcing him back into darkness. 

"Go away.." He grumbled, hoping he could still fall back asleep if whoever had disrupted him left. But, no. 

"Danny, please," 

"What, Jordon?" He sighed, tugging back the curtain reluctantly so he could talk to him. He began to worry when he saw the tears on Jordon's face, and the scared look in his eye. 

"It's about Jorel," The rapper quietly spoke, a quiver in his voice. If his face didn't give away the fact he'd been crying, his voice definitely did. 

Danny froze, feeling his heart skip a beat. He quickly sat up, narrowly missing hitting his head on the top of the bunk. "What do you mean? Is he okay?" He asked frantically, pressing for answers. He had gone from tired to near-panic in only seconds.

"He's.." Jordon clears his throat, holding back tears. He hated himself for crying so much about this, but he couldn't help being scared. "He's not home, and.. I don't know where he is, but I know why he isn't back," 

"Tell me, please," 

"Deuce has him," 

And, Danny's heart sunk. "What do you mean?" 

The calm tone in his voice was the most terrifying part. It was the calm before the storm. The eye of a hurricane. 

"When he was out last night, he called me, but it wasn't him that picked up," Jordon said, taking a step back in case Danny lashed out. That was the last thing they needed. "It was Deuce, and.." 

"And?" 

"He said that Jay was his, and that you could never take him away,"

Danny shook his head. "You're lying. This is a sick fucking joke. Where is he?" 

"I'm not joking, Danny.." 

"Where the fuck is he?!" The other snapped, watching Jordon take another step back. The anger and fear running through his veins had caused him to lash out.

They had to be joking. How could Jorel have been taken by Deuce? It just seemed ridiculous. At least, he wanted to believe that.

Deuce had always craved revenge since the day he left; but until now, he had only expressed it in songs.

This was another level.

"I don't know, okay, Danny?!" Jordon replied, a sharp, bitter edge in his voice. "I'm scared too, man, I'm fucking angry, but there's no need to take it out on me," 

"Leave me alone, please," The singer mumbled, the anger soon fading into fear and sadness. He leant back against the bunk wall.

"Whatever, man, just.." Jordon sighed. "Don't do anything stupid. We need to be around for Jay," 

"Yeah, okay," Danny murmured in reply, resting his head in his hands. How could this happen to his poor Jay? Was he not enough to protect him? 

It stung. Knowing Deuce was going to hurt and abuse Jorel just because of their past. Knowing that Jay would be in pain because of who he loved.

Because of Danny.

"This is my fucking fault," He whispered, the realisation washing over him with a wave of nausea. He felt like he was going to be sick. And he was. 

Stumbling out of the bus, he dropped to his knees in front of a bush, throwing up violently. It hurt. But he thought he deserved pain anyway. 

As he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, hunched over on the ground, he knew one thing.

He had to save Jorel.  
Even if it was the last thing he did.


	8. Dog Bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a one time warning, I would like to add that i do not condone any of the abusive actions in this work of fiction, and I don't believe this has happened or will happen. 
> 
> This is purely fiction, and any connections to real life scenarios are a coincidence.
> 
> With that said, I hope you enioy.  
> \- B. Vinyl

The first thing he felt was the cold. It had seeped into Jorel's skin like a sponge, sending shivers down his spine. It was burning, almost, tearing at his skin. He tried to pull away from it, only to find his legs were bound, a thick rope preventing any movement outside of slight shifting. His wrists were tied behind his back, allowing him only just enough room to lean away from the source. His mouth felt dry, too.

Probably due to the rag in his mouth - some kind of makeshift gag. 

Where the cold was coming from, he wasn't sure. He was still heavily disoriented from waking up in a dark, unfamiliar place. He didn't like it here - that's all he knew.

Closing his eyes, he gave in, letting his head rest back against the metal. He assumed that was the cause of his shivering. He wished he could be out of here. That this was some sort of fucked up nightmare, and that any moment he would wake up in Danny's arms, happy, safe and warm. Protected from the horrors of the world.

But as he reopened his eyes, vision met with darkness, he realised he wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon. Maybe he'd never leave that dark, dismal place.

It had only been what he assumed an hour, but his heart ached for Danny. His lover. His best friend. He missed him, he missed his band, and he missed being home. Oh, how he would give anything to be out of here.

Taking a shaky breath, he let his eyes shut again, trying to calm down. He knew panic would do him no good. 

His attempts at calming were cut short, however, when the creak of a door echoed through the darkness. Jay's eyes shot open, and he jumped back, groaning quietly through the cloth as his head hit the pole behind him. That hurt like hell. 

A small light flickered on beside him, illuminating the area around him. He looked up, meeting the eyes of his kidnapper, expecting to see a face.

But a painfully familiar mask stared back at him.

Jay whimpered, his heart seeming to stop when he began to realise that he was in a lot of shit, with none other than the predator of L.A.

Deuce. 

The masked man began to laugh, shaking his head as he approached. "What a sight," he smirked to himself, expression obscured. "You look like a little abandoned puppy," 

He let out another laugh, his victim visibly flinching away from the volume. "What, scared of something?" He snaps, standing in front of Jorel with his arms crossed. Leaning down only momentarily, he pulled the gag out of the others mouth. 

Jay felt himself hyperventilating, flinching away from Deuce's touch. Another whimper escaped while he stared at the ground; he didn't want to make eye contact - it would only bring back more unwanted memories. 

"Answer me, you fucking idiot," Deuce snarled, landing a sharp kick on Jorel's ribs. He felt satisfied when he heard a crack. The other bit his lip harshly,   
choking back a scream as the kidnappers boot connected with his body again, hitting the exact same spot. Refusing to cry, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on to his dignity. Despite his situation, he wouldn't let himself crumble in front od his ex-lover. His no longer ex-abuser. 

"Fuck off.." He whispered, voice cracking as he finally opened his eyes, raising his head to look at Deuce.

"What did you say to me, pet?" The man asked, an unsettling calm in his voice.

"I said.." Jorel took a breath, repeating himself with more confidence. The silence threw him off, however, and the tremble in his words remained. "Fuck off." 

Deuce crouched to his level, remaining silent. He lifted the others head with his hand, tilting his chin up and studying his face for a moment.

Then, he punched him. Again. And again. 

He was letting his short temper get the better of him as he continued to lash out, only retreating when blood dripped down the others face, soaking his shirt in red. It made him feel calm, hearing Jorel's howls of pain. Hearing how much he was suffering. That was his intention, after all. 

To Jay, the pain was overwhelming. The sharp hits filled his senses, and when it was over, he slumped, falling down an inch against the pole. He watched as blood dripped, feeling the ache take over his senses. He was almost certain that Deuce had broken his nose, however, that really was the least of his worries at that moment. 

"That'll teach you to fucking disrespect me," Deuce mumbled, turning away from his victim and walking toward a small table he had set up. The planning that went into this kidnapping was unreal, and he knew exactly he wanted to do to his pet. 

He returned with a small knife. "And this.." Deuce smirks, removing Jorel's shirt in order to better access his skin. "Is to remind everyone that your my property," 

Pressing the blade into Jay's skin, he began to cut, simply laughing at the others screams, only tightening the restraints when he fought back. "Shut the fuck up for a bit, will you?" He shook his head, stopping to replace the gag. 

"Better," Deuce smirked. He carved into the others body, watching the wounds he left bleed as he created his art. Perfect. He takes a step back to admire what he had done.

There was a word across Jorel's chest, blood streaming down his chest, staining his skin as he whimpered. Fighting against that had worn him out, energy diminishing quickly due to the tough ropes and chains that held him.

Deuce smirked as he read the word over and over again.

D E U C E. 

Now, even when this was over. Even if Jay escaped.

He would forever be reminded of this. Deuce wanted to make sure that he would never forget, and that he'd always carry a bit of his abuser with him.

For the rest of his miserable life. 

Placing the knife down as if nothing had happened, he crouched back to Jay's level. "Time for food, pet," 

He ripped the cloth out of the others mouth, freeing his hands with speed. 

Jorel was left to watch as Deuce left the room, his body trembling with shock. He whimpered, lifting his free hand and gently touching his chest, only to let out a pained cry as his fingers connected. He pulled away, his skin now seeming to burn as a result of his touch.

Biting back another scream, he slowly dragged his nail through the letters carved into his chest. Tears streamed down his face, yet he kept going, feeling like he was going to vomit.

The loss of blood was beginning to get to him. Confused and pained, he had done only what his mind told him to. Maybe he would be better later, maybe not. 

It all depending on Deuce. On how the man treated his victim. His ex lover. 

Jorel began to scratch at the cuts, tearing them open at the edges. He became frantic, trying to scratch the fresh carvings out if his skin. "No, no…" He whimpered, shaking as blood began to cover his dirty, sore hands. By the time Deuce returned, his arms were covered in red. The word was still intact, only now ragged at the edges. 

Whimpering, he looks up, making eye contact with a rather amused Deuce.

"Doing my work for me, I see,"

He approaches, giving no warning as he pressed a white sheet against the rappers chest, ignoring the reaction that came from Jay. He didn't care that it hurt - he had to keep him alive. 

Taping the sheet down, he smirked. It would be enough to stop the bleeding and prolong Jay's suffering until Deuce decided to end him. 

Oh, he was going to have a lot of fun with his.

Walking away without so much as a glance, he retrieved a small bowl, placing the object down in front of Jorel.

"Want food?"

He nods. Deuce released his hands, letting him grab the bowl.

It was filled with dog biscuits. 

He smirks as his victim pauses. "Problem?" Deciding against speaking up was the smartest thing Jay had done since this began. 

Digging his fingers into the bowl, he scooped the biscuits into his mouth. The taste was vile, to say the least, but after not having eaten for a day, it was worth it. 

"Hey, pet?" Deuce called, watching Jay lift his head, half expecting a hit.

"Smile." He chuckled as he took a photo. "Oh, that's a good one - your friends will like that. Especially Dannyboy!" 

Jorel felt the shame wash over him - embarrassed, he ducked his head, continuing to eat. It was all be could do. 

"Dinners over," Deuce spoke, moments later. He had finished sending the image, choosing to send it directly to Danny.

2:37am - unknown: -picture-  
2:39am - unknown; Pet is eating well - he's got a new tattoo as well, wanna see? ;)

Retrieving to bowl, he placed it back on the desk, swapping it out for a needle. He placed the object beside him, tying Jay's hands up.

He poked the device into his skin, injecting a concotion of medication.

"Goodnight, pet. I'll see you in the morning." Deuce smirks, watching as his victim began to fade out of consciousness, too weak to protest.

Ah, what a way to end the night.


	9. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long I've been away - I've been dealing with a lot of personal issues - but I promise I'm back now.
> 
> \- B. Vinyl

"What if we went to the police?"

"We can't do that, Jordon, are you fucking crazy?" Danny snaps, turning to face him. "They don't do shit!" 

"Danny, breathe," Matt warned, getting frustrated. Ever since Danny had learnt of Jorel's kidnapping, he hadn't stopped pacing. 

"How can I fucking breathe? Jorel is missing, Matt. Missing!" The singer says, shaking. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, choking back the angry tears. How could Deuce do such a thing? To take his Jorel? 

He was uncertain. Why didn't Deuce just take him? If he was the one being the problem. So many questions, but no answers.

"Look, Danny, I don't know what y-" 

Ding. 

The group turn to look at Jordon's phone.

The rapper nervously picked up the device, frowning as he stared at a message. "Well, shit," He mumbled. It was a picture. 

The only calm they gained from that was knowing that Jorel was still alive at least. 

"He's alive, at least," Matt says quietly, guiding Danny to sit down before he blew up again. Panicking and kicking off was going to do no good for the group. 

"I guess," The singer replies, resting his head in his hands. Since the kidnapping, his outbursts had become worse and more unpredictable. He chewed his lip, sighing gently. He just wished they had more than a picture. He wanted Jay back. 

Their silence was soon cut short by a sniff. Matt looks up from where he's sat to see Danny. He had dropped his head into his hands in an attempt not to cry. 

"Danny.." Matt frowned. He sat next to him. "Hey, it's okay. We'll get him back,"

"Will we, though?" He whispers, looking up at Matt. Tears streamed down his face. He looked so fragile. 

"Yeah, we will.."

But even as Matt said that, the uncertainty was clear. 

Had they lost Jorel?


End file.
